


Red Smoke and Pouring Rain

by Gallowmere



Series: Addicted - An Angel Dust Series [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Also has friendship stuff with the Hazbin hotel denizens, Based in an around Addict music video, But pretty PG in content, Covers same themes as Addict music video, Hurt/Comfort, Other, So fair warning in that department
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25534738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallowmere/pseuds/Gallowmere
Summary: Angel wasn't always a star. And he wasn't always so conflicted over what he wanted and how he saw Valentino, his boss. But the opportunity to spend some time at the hotel could help him finally get some clarity on that, if he doesn't push it all away for good first.
Relationships: Angel Dust & Charlie Magne, Angel Dust & Cherri Bomb (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust & Valentino (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: Addicted - An Angel Dust Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899277
Comments: 75
Kudos: 150





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So it’s pretty trip, but since Addict came out, Angel basically jumped to my favourite character in Hazbin by far. I loved the prequel comic but Hazbin kind of fell of my radar until Addict came out, and then I basically came up with the whole plot for this fic in one go. It’s Angel-centric, fairly PG but does touch on some themes raised by Addict, so if you’ve seen the video this will probably will be OK for you (but let me know if you think any tags need adding). 
> 
> Anyways, please R&R!

Angel folded and unfolded his arms across his body. It was super late at night now, as dark as it ever got in Hell, so the studio was quiet...and Valentino’s office was deathly silent. He took a deep breath in, raised his hands and rapped on the door.

“Who is it?”

“’S Angel, Val. Could ya spare a minute?”

A long pause from within, so long Angel was about to lose his nerve and walk off, when Val called, “Come in.”

Angel squared his shoulders and cracked the door open, peering inside before going in. Val was at his desk – fully dressed, attention on some contracts in his hands, a stack of money next to his elbow he was probably going to count later. He didn’t look too irate. Probably safe to approach.

Angel slipped inside, shutting the door behind him but not heading inside.

“What is it, Angie?” Val asked, not looking up. Angel swallowed.

“Well, ya know…” Angel cleared his throat, raising his voice a little. “The shoot I had tomorrow? In the- in the afternoon? I wondered if we could start just- an hour later?”

“Why?”

Angel’s throat was so dry. No matter how many times he tried to clear his throat, it didn’t help. He tried to tell himself to calm down. Val had asked why. He was at least considering saying yes. “It was just – I promised a friend I’d help out with somethin’, so I thought...y’know…”

“A friend? Who?”

Angel was thankful Val wasn’t looking at him as he tried his hardest to sound nonchalant, “Just – someone,” he lied. “Cherri, if you remember her…”

He didn’t like having to lie to Val; it made him nervous like nothing else did. But he didn’t have much choice – after all, if Val knew where he really intended to go…

Val looked up, his eyes zeroing in on the way Angel was nervously rubbing his arm. Angel tried to stop, but it was too late now...Val had already seen. “Are you loyal to Cherri, Angelcakes? I think you mentioned her before.”

Angelcakes. Angel could never tell if that names was a good sign or a bad one until it was too late. He shrugged again. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I guess, we’re friends, ya know we just…”

“What would she do for you in return?”

Angel swallowed. Bad sign. Definitely bad. “I dunno, boss. She’s fun to party with.” It was such a lame, nondescript answer, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. But Val nodded like it was a perfectly normal thing to say. He was still watching Angel as he reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a cigar. Angel’s heart sank as Val lit up and drew deeply on it, blowing a plume of red smoke into the air. 

He looked at Angel and raised an eyebrow. “Want some?”

“N-no, thanks, boss…”

Luckily Val didn’t press the issue, but he took another deep draw on it, filling more of the air with the red smoke. The unique scent Angel associated with Val filled the air, stinging his eyes, getting down his throat. He resisted the urge to cough. 

“I like loyalty in a person. Always have.” He eyed Angel, eyes harsh. “But the shoot tomorrow is important, darlin’. Far too short notice to postpone it. Understand?”

That was a lie. Angel had seen the schedule for tomorrow; there wasn’t much on it, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked Val had at all. But as Val blew out the smoke again, he found himself nodding, his head suddenly thick and woolly. Maybe he hadn’t seen the schedule. He should have checked it again...because he wanted to ask Val- something…?

“Yeah, I understand,” he said, his own voice sounding odd in his ears.

“Good boy…” Val focused the smoke, something turning to a hand, lifting Angel’s chin briefly before dropping to his shoulder, encouraging him to turn. “Now, go on. Long day tomorrow.”

Long day. Was it? Angel had a weird feeling that wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t recall why. Suddenly all he wanted was to get out of the room, to be able to breathe easier. He nodded to Val again, smiling to keep him happy, and turned and shut the door behind him. 

Angel leant heavily against the door when it shut behind him, trying to clear his head. What the hell had he been thinking? He should have known better than to ask for anything from Val, especially by now…

He found himself a little wobbly as he headed down the corridor to his room. He was too tired to go all the way to his room at the hotel, so he figured he’d sleep here at the studio. It was hard to say if he’d sleep all the well, though. The smell of the red smoke cigars Val loved so much lingered on him, too, and sometimes he could swear it was still there, even in his dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

YEARS AGO...

Valentino’s foul mood had officially hit rock bottom. Not only was there another turf war right on the doorstep of the new location he’d just opened, but now he was hearing that another city block he intended to take as his turf was being picked over by impudent mice, too. It’d annoyed him enough he’d decided to go in person to one of them, since nothing else was as good a show of force than for the peons to witness an Overlord in person. 

But it was odd – when he got there, everything had gone quiet, the noise of the explosions moved one city block over to the left. He gritted his teeth and growled. If some new warlord thought they’d take this section over before him, they had another thing coming. Val shucked off his huge red coat, dumping it in the arms of one of his underlings and drawing a pistol in two hands and holding a grenade in the third. It’d do, for a start.

He snapped his fingers, gesturing for his men to wait back while he went ahead. Not his normal style – why put himself in harm’s way when there were many, many others who would be perfectly honoured to go first? - but he felt a strong urge to blow off steam today. He almost pitied any creature that stood in his way…

Val ducked low, raising his feelers and tasting the air. Dust and debris, but something else, too...something living…

He smiled, gold tooth shining in the dark. Val crept forward, coming out into the debris of a wrecked shopping mall. Tables and counters had been tipped over as forts across from one another, but the gangland street punks Val had expected to see weren’t there, either. It looked like there was no one there at all…

Until Val heard a laugh. Frowning, he looked up and spotted a tall figure perched high on one of the railings up above. The high ranking demon kept to the shadows in order to creep closer, managing to flank the demon so he could see him in the moonlight.

He looked like fresh meat – tall and skinny but fluffy at the front, with multiple arms. At first Val thought the demon was similar to him, but then he saw there weren’t just two pairs of arms, but three, the third resting back on the railing and the hands swinging idly over the side where the demon was resting. Not just any bug, but a spider demon. Val hadn’t seen a spider demon in some time.

That wasn’t the only odd thing – he had a long swoop of hair, odd eyes and a particularly wicked grin, little pink dots under his eyes in an odd mix of the pretty and the sinister. 

Everything about him screamed mix of pretty and sinister, come to think of it. Even his laugh was abrasive and weirdly charming at the same time, in a very unapologetic sort of way. The demon seemed to be reading some scrap of something he’d picked up, the distinct shape of a Tommy gun resting idly across his skinny middle. His clothes were nothing to look at – rough and poor – but there was no hiding the length of the demon’s legs, no matter what he wore. Standing up, Valentino would bet anything he had the build to be a model. 

Then the laughter changed, turned to humming before becoming some old-fashioned tune – not the best singing voice Val had ever heard in Hell, but full of attitude, commanding attention without seeming to try.

A strange feeling pricked up the moth’s demons feelers, one he hadn’t felt in a while. 

There was...potential here. With the right direction, his direction, the creature could probably be moulded into something very, very useful...or at least be a nice distraction from his other troubles if not. 

Val stood from the shadows and cleared his throat.

Immediately the spider sprung up, arms rotating him and holding him perched on the railing as the barrel of the Tommy gun pointed straight at Val’s chest. “Oi! Whaddya think you’re doin’ here?” he demanded, broad New York accent immediately distinct. 

“Talking to you,” Val said, grinning. “What happened to everyone who was fighting over this building?”

The creature growled. “Ain’t it obvious? I saw ‘em off. Now scram before I do the same ta you!”

Val’s grin got wider. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

“What? What are ya? One of those loudmouth bigshots? The others turned tail just like everyone else did!”

Val laughed. He hadn’t been entertained like this in a long time. “Not quite. I am an Overlord of Hell...Valentino.”

The creature’s eye twitched, but he shrugged his shoulders, gun still raised. “I ain’t big on politics…”

“Evidently.” He narrowed his eyes. “But let’s talk about you. What do they call you?”

The spider’s eyes narrowed, unsure, but he eventually gave in and said, “...Angel.”

Val’s eyebrows raised. This was far, far too perfect. “They call you Angel?”

“-Dust. Angel Dust,” he corrected. “So whaddya want? If it’s this building as your turf, I don’t intend to give it up easy.”

“Actually, Angel...I’m more interested in you.” Val reached into his pocket, making a show of taking out the most expensive set of keys to the limo that he had. Angel’s eyebrows nearly rose all the way into his hair. Val grinned. He definitely had the spider’s attention now. “Care to take a ride? I have a proposition for you.” 

Angel lowered the gun, but only a fraction. He looked around, uncertain, as if weighing up his options. “If ya think I’m some dumb schmuck ya can screw over…”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Val walked forward, eyes zeroing in on the spider. He did look hungry – and a bit dirty around that unusual face, too, now Val could get a closer look. “There’s food in it for you, if you just hear me out.”

“I could hear ya out right here. I fought hard to win this turf. It’s mine.” The Tommy gun raised again, Angel reaching into his clothes and producing yet more pistols and pointing them his direction. 

Val sighed. The poor ones never had an eye to the greater game. That was what kept them poor. He reached into his jacket again, ignoring Angel’s trigger-happy twitching, retrieving a cigar and lighting it. 

“Hey!” Angel got only more agitated, guns cocking left and right, “Are ya listenin’-”

In an instant the red smoke formed like a whip, slicing the top off all of the guns Angel carried. He flinched back, eyes almost comically wide. 

“No point running, Angelcakes,” Val told him, grinning and calling the smoke back into his side. “I have the perimeter surrounded. On my word, my men will gun you down the second you step foot outside.”

“You motherfu -”

“But I like you,” Val cut in, still smiling. “I think you and I could do great things together.” Angel stared at him, incredulous. Val restrained his smile, letting a bit of something else into his expression. Anticipation. 

The smoke reached out again, moving up to the balcony where Angel crouched, more slowly this time... becoming an outstretched hand. “You just have to hear me out.”

Angel cursed, but didn’t run. “Ain’t really lookin’ for a deal…”

“Except you’re alone, aren’t you? Lone demons don’t last long down here, Angel. Not unless they’re really, exceptionally talented. You’re good, but you could run yourself right into trouble very, very easily. Most newcomers just get themselves gunned down over and over – then that’s it. They’re gutter trash and they never amount to anything else. Not alone.” He raised the hand higher, letting some of the shape crumble in integrity, pulling the chance away...letting the scent get closer and closer to the spider demon. “Plus, I’d be willing to bet you don’t have family around, either... do you?”

Angel didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on the tantalising outstretched hand.

Val didn’t approach any closer. Instinct had taught him well enough when he could close a deal. “All the things you lack, I can provide. All you have to do is listen, and follow.”

Angel’s eyes were downcast. He muttered something.

“What was that?”

“All right,” he said. He looked up, putting one of his hands in Valentino’s, wincing as the vice-like grip closed around him. “Not like I’ve got nothin’ to lose.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel talks to Charlie about his schedule, but they're miscommunicating in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Bit of a slow burn, but we’re building up to something, I promise. Anyways, enjoy some cuteness with Charlie (Al and Vaggie will turn up later on, so don’t worry if you’re hoping for them).

Charlie was merrily putting up banners when Angel approached. He cleared his throat to get her attention, a sinking feeling in his stomach when she turned and flashed him a bright smile.

“Mornin’, Angel! We called you for breakfast but you weren’t around.”

“Yeah, I was late at the studio last night so I slept over.”

“Oh, okay. Everything going all right?” she said, still smiling brightly. 

“Uh, yeah, actually – that’s what I wanted to talk to ya about, toots.” He cleared his throat again, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling unsure why he felt so awkward. “I know we had a group session today, but I wondered if we could move it by an hour or two? I gotta shoot I can’t get out of.” 

She looked over and for a split-second he thought sure she would be disappointed again, but she just smiled and said, “Sure, Angel. Let’s call it three o’clock and then maybe Husk won’t be too hungover to join us.”

He paused. “What, really?”

“Of course.” She blinked her big eyes at him, confused. “Why, what’s the problem?”

“Nothin’, nothin’...just figured punctuality would be a redeeming quality, or somethin’.”

She shrugged and went back to decorating the walls, trying to make the place look more homely. Sometimes her efforts worked, but the place had an insistence on remaining gloomy and dark. Hell houses were like that. If they weren’t lit up like the Fourth of July, dark was their default setting. 

“We don’t have much of a group right now if anyone is missing, you know, Angel…” She reached around for the stapler while trying to hold something up, Angel picked it up to give it to her. Suddenly Charlie flashed him an absolutely luminous smile. “But I really appreciate that you were thoughtful enough to tell me about it! That’s good.”

Angel almost felt himself getting embarrassed. What was she so happy about? Wasn’t her time more valuable than his, anyway? “Ain’t nothin, sweets. Anyways, I gotta get on with somethin’…”

He trailed off, feeling even more awkward than before, and Charlie seemed to pick up on it. She lowered the stapler and he willed her not to ask him what the ‘something’ was he was supposed to be doing. Short of maybe calling Cherri Bomb for a chat, his life was pretty empty when he wasn’t working or partying...the rest of the time was usually filled up with sleep to recover from the previous two things. But she didn’t. She just looked down, and nodded.

Angel looked away, his eyes falling on the decorations she was putting up. Part of him wanted to offer to help, but the bigger part couldn’t stand being around someone else for another second. He turned to go, quickly waving with his right hands. “Anyways, later, toots.”

“Sure. Later.” 

That slightly sad tone again. He’d swear she was doing this on purpose, if she wasn’t so doe-eyed and wholesome all the time. He made it only a few paces down the hallway before stopping.

“Why redemption?”

“Sorry?” she said.

He didn’t look back. “Forget it! I gotta go.”

“Angel?”

But he didn’t answer her, instead stalking off down the corridor, barely restraining the urge to flip her the bird again. It was hardly her fault, not this time. He was the one who’d opened his stupid mouth, after all.

Angel shut himself up in his room and dropped down onto his bed, keeping still while his pig curled into his side to nap. He pet Fat Nuggets with one hand, grateful for the warmth. Maybe it was the hotel, but he felt...chilled. Cold and uneasy, like all he wanted to do was get up and walk around to shake off the excess energy. He’d never felt like this before he tried to go clean. It had been easier when he could just dance or do drugs or stay out all night...at the very least it distracted him from everything he didn’t want to think about...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback: Angel is starting to climb the ranks in Val's world, but the only thing he can't figure out is Val himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Trigger warning: physical assault, domestic violence

YEARS AGO…

Angel swung around the pole at a dizzying speed, extending his third set of arms as he shifted his weight and descended in a slow spiral, arching his back as he dismounted and moved to the floor, brushing the chin of the nearby gawkers before reaching around and climbing the pole again, hanging loose just as the music ended.

The club roared with appreciative hoots and Angel slowly lifted himself back upright, panting as he set his boots back onto the dancer floor. His muscles were burning but it was the best satisfaction he had ever felt outside of being high, the electric energy of the crowd confirming what he knew in his blood: his performance was something else. He was something else. They wouldn’t be forgetting the name Angel Dust, now or any other night.

He blew them a kiss and tried to get his usual smirk back in place, but a genuine smile kept spilling through. 

Angel waltzed off the stage and to the changing rooms, turning his attention to the rest of the night. As he grabbed a bottle of water and downed it in one, he fished out his phone. He knew he didn’t have anything else scheduled for work tonight, so he felt like celebrating, ideally with Cherri. Her high energy was exactly what he needed on a night like this…

“You look pleased with yourself,” came a voice from behind him. 

Angel startled, spinning around to see Val standing in the doorway. “Jeez, Val, you scared me.”

“So what were you happy about?”

Angel frowned, thrown off balance. Hadn’t Val been watching him dance? “I just...ya know...had a good night. The crowd sure enjoyed it.”

His eyes narrowed. “Did they? How do you know?”

Angel raised his hands, gesturing out the door to the noise of the crowd still booming down the halls, now totally confused. 

“What?” Val chuckled, reaching in his coat and retrieving a cigar. He took a deep drag and puffed a cloud of red smoke Angel’s direction. “Just because they cheered you? Cheers are momentary, Angelcakes.”

Angel felt a familiar sinking in his stomach. He’d pissed Val off somehow, but like usual he wasn’t sure why. “Right. OK…”

Val sighed, looking at him like Angel was trying his patience. “I need you to focus on the long game, darlin’. Your star is rising but little things like a good pole dance aren’t going to get you there – or get me a repayment on everything I invested in you.” 

Angel’s shoulders slumped. Money. It always came back to money. “Can’t a man be happy about a job well done?”

Val merely shrugged, blowing out more smoke. Angel waved it away, glaring openly at his boss. “Of course you can...if you want to be a minnow.”

Angel ground his teeth. “If ya don’t want me to be a minnow, then let me come on jobs wit’ ya. I can do a lot more than just sucking your loser patron’s-”

Val’s open palm slapped him so hard his head spun to the side, the surprise knocking Angel against the dressing table. He curled back against it, staring up at Val in total shock. 

Val had hit him. Val had never hit him before...

The overlord was rubbing the palm of his hand, looking down at Angel with a mixture of disdain and annoyance. “Don’t forget who made you, Angelcakes. And don’t run your mouth to me again.” he said softly. His eye went to the red throbbing spot on Angel’s cheek. He’d started cradling it with his hand. “And get some ice on that. If you let it bruise, I’ll make you regret it.”

He moved to pull Angel up, but Angel flinched back, a pathetic animal noise of fear escaping him. Val raised an eyebrow, something in his expression shifting but not softening. He stopped where he was.

“Angel, sweetheart...you know I like your fire. You know I think that’s what will take you far. But you have to do what I say, do you understand me? Exactly what I say.”

Angel was still leant against the dresser, a slight shake going through his body. He wanted to say he had done what Val had said, and better – give them a good show.

He’d given them the best show of his bloody life.

His breathing was coming fast, uneven and he couldn’t help but get the red smoke down his throat. There was so much of it now, the little dressing room had a red haze to it, and Val’s eyes seemed to glow.

Angel tried to push himself up, push himself away from Val. He lowered his hand from his throbbing face, nodding dumbly. 

Val smiled. “Good boy...go on, then.”

Angel grabbed up his stuff and fled, only just remembering to grab a bucket with ice on his way out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel attends group therapy. It...doesn't go so well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed so far! Kind of a bridging chapter, but hope you enjoy. We’re building up to the first scene I imagined soon, so please stick with me.

Angel yawned, attracting a glare from Vaggie. He shrugged and looked the other direction, folding his arms over his middle. Currently they were all sat around in a mock circle time in the hotel lobby, doing an ‘intro to therapy’ exercise Charlie had tried to cobble together. They didn’t exactly have access to actual approved materials to work with, though, so it was bumpy. 

Vaggie no doubt thought he was bored (which, God, he really, really was), but that wasn’t the cause of his yawn. Angel was just tired, drained even. Without anything to keep his energy up – he’d been back on the wagon again a couple of weeks, so far – he was kind of tired. Mostly it was this feeling that he’d been leading a double life lately: trying to keep up with the usual workload with Val and the studio on the one hand while attending these Sinners Anonymous meetings with Charlie and the others, and spending more energy than either of those things trying to act like everything was normal. 

By some miracle Val hadn’t seen the news that he was part of Charlie’s project, he only really vaguely knew Angel had new digs and that was it. One good thing about Hell was that no one cared for the small details – the story had basically gone from Charlie and her hotel to Charlie punching that bitch Katie Killjoy...and also Angel had been involved in a turf war. Made the hotel look like crap, but as far as keeping it secret from Val, it was perfect and Angel was happy to keep it that way. 

At that moment Alastor breezed in, smiling that Cheshire cat grin. “Good morning, everyone! And how are we on this fine day?”

“Great,” Angel said, but it came off more passive-aggressive than he intended and Vaggie gave him another look. He fidgeted in his chair and looked the other direction, folding his arms more tightly around himself and biting his tongue. Even Alastor raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything as he sat down next to Charlie.

She was smiling like usual, excitedly tapping her fingers on top of a clipboard. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get started!” She was practically radiating excitement as she set it down and started handing out sheets of paper, catching Angel’s eye when she handed one to him and smiling like they were old friends. Angel smiled back a bit before he’d even thought about it. It was weird. She definitely wasn’t his type, but he could see why he was always catching Vaggie making total heart-eyes at her…

“I thought for our first group session, we would start small. How about we all make notes about things we’ve done in Hell that we’re not proud of, maybe mistakes we’ve made similar to ones we might have made when we were alive?”

Angel shifted uncomfortably. Why in hell had he agreed to this? 

A pen was being pressed into his hand, but the only other person even trying to write was Vaggie. Charlie was looking at him expectantly, too. Angel tried to put pen to paper, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to write that wouldn’t pull on some thread or other and open up a total can of worms. 

It occurred to him he’d really put his neck on the chopping block here; after all, he was the only one in the room officially signed up to Charlie’s redemption program. Nifty and Husk were staff, and Lucifer only knew what the hell Alastor’s deal was…

“Angel?” Charlie said, suddenly shy. “Do you have anything you’d like to share?”

He looked at his sheet. It was basically blank. “Uh, yeah. It’s pretty obvious I like the dust a lot. Definitely did a lot of that when I was alive.” 

Charlie nodded, leaning forward like she was listening intently. “And why do you think that is?”

Angel paused. “Whaddya mean, toots?”

“There must have been a reason you started, right?”

“Nope. Not me. Boredom, mostly.” He jabbed a thumb Alastor’s direction. “Like smiles over there. You know how that goes, right?”

“Not at all, my friend! My boredom is most assuredly a different kind than yours.”

Angel curled his lip. There was so much to be irritated about in that sentence, he didn’t know where to start. “Well, anyway. Bad decision became a habit. Nothin’ mysterious there, sistah.”

Vaggie frowned as Charlie floundered, the Princess’ hands twisting the sheets of paper between them like they could give her the answers. “I...see. OK, well how about when you came here?”

“How ‘bout it?” 

“Why’d you keep doing the drugs?” Charlie pressed.

Angel shrugged his shoulders. Vaggie’s frown deepened. “Angel…” she warned.

“I know, I know, you don’t gotta tell me. I’m givin’ it the old college try here.”

“Really? It looks like you’re dancing around the subject to me,” she snapped.

“Vaggie-” Charlie started.

“Oh yeah? Well, maybe I just ain’t getting why my bad habits before are all that relevant,” he snapped right back, enjoying the anger pouring out of him in a way he could never indulge with Val. “Ain’t I here to break all those? What’s the use in wallowing in the past? I been clean longer than I was before. Don’t that count for nothing?”

“Of course it does,” Charlie said, trying to smooth things over, “I think-”

“Charlie and me just want to know that you care about something,” Vaggie said over her, her voice rising to a heated pitch, “Something other than whose dick you’re sucking!”

Angel saw it immediately in the room: no one thought she had crossed a line. They were all just looking at him, waiting for him to escalate the fight even more. But he didn’t. He sat there, cold and stunned into silence, until the atmosphere suddenly started to shift. They began to look at one another, confused and uncertain at the sea change in his demeanour. 

The one thing he wanted to say back rattled around his head: Why the hell should I? You don’t expect anything else from me. 

But they wouldn’t come out. Instead he just got up, mumbling about needing some air, and left the room. 

And then the hotel, and then the street. He’d been walking for a minute or two, not sure what exactly he was angry about, when a text flashed up on his screen. Val, wanting to discuss a shoot. Just what he needed.

But he zapped Charlie a text to tell her where he’d gone off to – no sense punishing her for Vaggie’s hair-trigger temper – and then headed over right away. He was seen straight into Val’s office and unusually Val appeared not a second later, giving him no time to school his expression a bit more.

“Good, you’re here, darlin’. We need to talk about the shoot,” Val said. Angel perched on one of the sofas in his office, content to let Val talk at him like usual. 

But weirdly enough, Val actually paused and clocked his expression. “Something wrong, Angelcakes?”

Angel tensed, straightened up his spine. “No, Mistah Valentino. I’m listenin’.”

“Not talking about that, Angie. Lately you seem...a little distant.”

Angel tensed further, doing his best to look energised even when he felt worn down. “My work’s been good, though, hasn’t it, boss? No one’s complained on any front…”

“Your work is the best, darlin’, you know that.” Val actually came and sat next to him, seeing the effect the rare compliment had on Angel. “But I get the feeling your head is somewhere else. You and I are a team, remember?”

“Yeah,” Angel said, nodding along, “’Course.”

“I know you got a new flat or something recently, I just don’t know why. All you need is my studio…” He turned Angel’s face towards him, but didn’t force him to look up. “To live and work here. This is all you need. And, really, Angie...what else is there for you?”

Angel paused. Right then he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. “Sorry, boss. I’ll – I’ll try harder. I’ll- spend more time in the studio,” he said, cursing himself for giving in the moment he said the words.

Val took his face in both hands and did raise his chin then, forcing Angel to meet his eyes. “I know you will, Angel. And more importantly, you know it, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For the record, I didn't intend Vaggie to look down on what Angel does for a living; she just has a quick temper and seemed the best candidate to get into a fight with him. She's more frustrated and trying to protect Charlie's interests than anything else.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A big thank you to all my reviewers! I’m glad no one seems too OOC so far, and hope you enjoy this chapter. I’m putting poor Angel through the wringer again, but he’ll be all right in the end (sort of).

YEARS AGO…

Angel cursed and muttered to himself as he headed along to his next job. Val had been so goddamn unreasonable lately, it was unbelievable. He just expected more and more money out of Angel, regardless of what it was actually possible to make in a day and totally regardless of Angel’s living expenses, to the point he was all but sure he wouldn’t be able to make his rent this month. Val didn’t care about that at all. He made clear on more than one occasion Angel should just live in the studio, but Angel already felt like an asset, a commodity, to him. Why make it worse by becoming part of the damn furniture? 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and entering the club. At least the next engagement should be simple enough – pole dance at a private function. He said nothing to the patrons as he mounted the stage, determined to channel all his anger into his performance. Wouldn’t make much of a difference for him in terms of tips, probably, but he could dream…

The cheers were more aggressive than usual, spurring him on. Angel closed his eyes and started to move, just letting instinct guide him this time. 

A few more hours, then he was free to go home and sleep. No, forget sleep – find the nearest supplier he could and get higher than the ceiling. 

And once he had done that, maybe – just maybe – he could think about leaving. Leaving Val, leaving all of it behind for good. It was a crazy thought but he indulged in the fantasy as he spun faster and faster around the pole, haughtily refusing to look at his audience. Val hadn’t hit him again since that day (yet), but who’s to say he wouldn’t if Angel ticked him off? Or even do something worse...

He was suddenly aware of someone climbing the stage near him. He opened his eyes, about to reach over and shove the eager demon away-

When they grabbed his hair.

Angel immediately moved to push him off (and throw in a sassy quip for good measure) but suddenly there was a fist in his face and the surprise of the impact knocked him to the floor. Angel growled, third pair of arms extending on instinct as he propelled himself back to his feet, punching the patron as the other demons closed in. 

“What’s the big idea, ya losers?” he snapped, decking the next creature and kicking another who dared to get close, but it didn’t help, the others just formed a tight circle around him. They were smiling in that canine way Angel had only seen a few times before – a smile that said they just wanted a fight, pure and simple. He grit his teeth, suddenly feeling exposed in nothing but his shorts and high-heeled boots. Didn’t look like any of them had weapons, but he didn’t like this nonetheless. Getting caught suddenly on the back foot like this was not his style. 

He backed up to the dance pole, climbing it and using all his arms to propel himself in the strongest swinging kick he could manage, slamming the heel of his boot straight into the first attacker and knocking him into the man behind him, shoving both of them from the stage and into the floor. 

“Dance for me, slut!” a wasp demon yelled, taking such a wide swing at him that Angel barely even had to dodge to avoid it. These idiots had another thing coming if they thought they could make humiliating him their entertainment. 

“You idiots shoulda known better than to take me on!” he yelled, going all arms-in against his latest attacker and hitting him so many times it left the demon dazed, dropping to his knees when he was done. Angel smirked. That would show them-

Suddenly something hard and metal connected with the back of his head, knocking him clean off the stage. The room spun, Angel’s hands scrabbling, trying to find purchase on something – he grabbed the back of a chair to pull himself up, only succeeded in pulling it over – and another fist connected with his chest, knocking him back down. 

They all closed in, laughing and jeering and Angel couldn’t get up, couldn’t pull away...the best he could do was to use all his arms to shield the vital parts – head, chest, legs – and try to swipe at anyone going for the vital areas. 

But there was only so much he could do – they were grabbing at his arms, trying to get to his body, then one kick went straight into his ribs, and another, then another, and a claw hand ripped at the fluff on his front…

Angel swore at them, spitting at whoever was nearest -

He was kicked straight in the face, so hard his head slammed back against the floor and he tasted blood. 

Then it stopped. There was laughter and retreating footsteps, and Angel was left lying on his side hidden down the side of the stage, gasping and clutching all of the spots that hurt with his hands. 

Which was most of them…

Shit. Shit. This was not good.

Angel raised his arms, trying to grab hold of something to help him up. He fumbled a bit before he managed to push himself up using one of the tables, immediately wobbling as he got to his feet. His head felt...weird, like the room was tipping around him. 

Shit. Couldn’t get dizzy now. He tried to tell himself to think, figure out his priorities. 

The money. They’d paid him for a full hour of entertainment of all sorts before they’d gotten bored and decided to beat him, had they-?

No. When he checked, the bills were all still there, and thank Lucifer for that. 

Angel brushed a hand through his hair, sighing at how mussed up and bloody it felt. He ran his hands down over his body, checking for broken ribs or other problems. Other than being sore in a way he knew was going to bruise a rainbow tomorrow, nothing felt terribly wrong…

But he caught sight of his reflection and his stomach dropped. Bruise a rainbow was right. His face was bruised, his mouth bloody, a bit of his hair ripped out and the fluff on his chest torn up. He hadn’t looked this bad in a while, and that wasn’t even getting into the bruises he was sure to have on his chest and legs. 

What the hell was he going to do? He had shoots all week long, and if Val saw what a mess he was, he would absolutely blow his top. Angel sighed, leaning against the table and folding his arms up over his head. This was going to be shit, no two ways about it. Best he could do was hide it the best he could and then cover up any marks he had the next day with makeup. 

But, damn...didn’t he have the rest of the day to get through? 

Angel moved to try and leave, wobbling as pain lanced through his middle. Shit. Work for the rest of the day was going to be rough.

He hated to admit it, but he was going to have risk going back to the studio and getting himself something for the pain. If he expected to get through the rest of the day and whatever the hell else he had scheduled, he would have to have something to take the edge off…

By the time he dragged himself there, the pain in his body was so intense he could barely walk, and could barely breathe for the tightness in his ribs. He took the back door into the studio, keeping his head down and thankful it was pretty quiet inside.

He tried to hurry a bit faster to his room, supporting himself with his arms guiding him along the corridor. Just a few more turns and then he’d be in his dressing room, all the makeup and alcohol he could ever need at his fingertips. 

In his haste, he assumed Val wouldn’t be in his room, since he rarely was during the day. In his haste, he didn’t notice the red smoke until he was practically choking on it.

He made it past Val’s door when Val called out: “Angel?”

Angel stopped cold. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think he could speak without giving himself away. 

“Y-yeah?”

“Come in here.”

Angel cursed. “I- I’m late for a client. Can it-”

“Come in here. Now.” 

Angel cursed more. He knew this was Hell, but could everything just stop being so shit for five minutes? Was that a bridge too far?

“Don’t make me ask you again, Angie.”

Apparently it was.

Angel took a deep breath, just poking his head around the doorway. “What’s up?” he said, trying to sound light, “Boss?”

Val was sitting on his bed, some glossy prints in one hand and a cigar in the other. A third beckoned Angel inside.

Angel sighed. He inched into the room, trying to fold his arms over his body in a futile effort to hide the obvious damage done to him. He stopped just out of arm’s reach.

Val looked up, looking him over with an expression of consternation. Then he said the exact word Angel most dreaded.

“Angelcakes,” he said, softly, “What the hell happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey, two Val cliffhangers in a row! It’s actually an accident it worked out that way though, the last chapter was two combined since I didn’t think the Val scene in the last one on its own deserved a chapter (so I guess this might end up being eleven chapters instead of twelve?)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In which we flip back to the present and take a sudden left turn. Thanks for all the comments so far, they really help motivate me!

A/N: In which we flip back to the present and take a sudden left turn. Thanks for all the comments so far, they really help motivate me! 

Angel coughed, grabbing his bottle of water off the dresser. He’d been pulling so many double-shifts lately, it felt like he had a cold threatening. Not a good thing in his line of work. Worse than that, Val had been getting progressively pushier about asking what was up with Angel: where was he living now? Was he actually trying to go clean for some reason? Had someone been putting stupid ideas in his head?

He opened the bottle and drained the entire thing. If he pretended he could try and imagine it helped. Angel leant forward and looked critically in the mirror. No amount of money was satisfying to Val lately, so he likely had a long day ahead of him and he honestly didn’t know how in Hell he was going to get through it...

Sure enough, a text came in just then: ANGIE, CLIENT FOR YOU. USUAL STREET CORNER IN FIVE.

Angel ran a hand through his hair, sighing, then quickly did up his usual outfit. He knew he should head out, but he just...couldn’t.

A familiar itch came over him. An urge to do something he hadn’t done in weeks. Angel hurried back to his dresser and opened the drawer. 

A few of Val’s cigars sat inside. The boss had given them to him as a present awhile ago, letting him fill his old room with red smoke that made him feel both distant and nauseated at the same time. Angel picked one up, rolling it back and forth between his fingers. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thrown them out when he came here…

“Angel?”

Angel jumped, jamming the cigar in his pocket and spinning around, covering the open drawer with his body. Vaggie was stood at his slightly open door, looking in. He glared at her.

“What? Don’tcha know it’s rude to sneak up on someone like that?”

“I wasn’t trying to-” She stopped and he saw her make an effort to control her temper. “Look, I just wanted to talk to you for five minutes.”

Angel’s phone buzzed again. He knew without looking who it was. He folded his arms and pushed past her out the door. “Sorry, sistah. Little busy right now.”

But Vaggie walked with him towards the hotel doors, her little legs struggling to keep pace with his leggy ones. “All right, but, I just need a minute – I wanted to talk to you about the other day -”

“Ain’t nothing to talk about, toots. And I really gotta go.”

“But-”

He opened the hotel door and glared down at her, but to his surprise she wasn’t glaring back. She looked almost downcast. A rarity for her, especially around him. He tried to soften his expression, even as his phone buzzed yet again. “Look, forget about it, all right? I ain’t mad if you ain’t mad.”

She bit her lip. She didn’t look mad, she looked upset. He wasn’t fond of that at all. Arguing was what they were good at, most of the time. Sometimes it reminded him of how he and Molly could be, sometimes. 

Before he’d stopped to think, he rested a hand on her shoulder and tried to smile reassuringly. “Honest, toots. Session again later?”

Her eyebrows raised into her massive fringe. “Yeah. You better be there.”

He went to reply but had the sudden urge to cough instead. He muffled it in his glove and waved a quick goodbye, walking off down the street. It was starting to drizzle out, which was good. He felt kind of hot, his knee-high boots clinging to him and his suit uncomfortable. A bit of cold rain might wake him up. 

His phone buzzed again and he fired off a quick message to Val that he was on his way. Normally he’d push back and tell his boss not to rush him, and in the old days Val had tolerated a bit of light backchat, so long as Angel did what he wanted. Now that Val was so deeply suspicious of him, though, all bets were off. 

Angel made it to the corner, seeing a demon he had never seen before waiting there. Nothing too imposing about him; in fact he looked more nervous than anything else. A fox demon, possibly, wearing a suit and tie like an office worker. He looked more like a frightened little bunny, overwhelmed and overawed as all the other demons went about their day. A newbie, maybe. Angel was glad for that, since he didn’t have the energy to deal with anyone’s shit today. He stifled another cough against his hand, but not well enough. The fox looked up.

The demon gave him a once-over, looking a little awestruck. Angel puffed up a bit more. Nice to know he still had it, even when he felt like crap. 

“Studio sent me,” he said, smirking broadly. The demon looked at his mouth – taking in the gold tooth, probably – before quickly meeting Angel’s eye. “You the John?”

“My name’s-”

“Don’t need to know it, sugah.” He flashed another wicked grin, deciding to put on the wicked temptress persona for this one. He gestured with his arms down the alley behind him. “C’mon. I know a place more fun than this.”

And he walked off without checking if the fox was following. He knew he was.

Angel tried to check the alley for any possible dangers as they went, but it was hard when his head was so fuzzy and thick. Hell, where had this come from? He didn’t want to cough in front of a client but it was impossible to resist, and he couldn’t even mask it well enough into his glove. 

“Are, uh, you all right?”

“Fine, sugah.” Angel looked over his shoulder and dialled up his charming smile, even as mentally he was picturing his bed in the hotel, and just sleeping the day away… “This your first time?”

The demon looked bashful, which was answer enough. Angel turned, still walking backwards, and gently punched him on the shoulder. “Ain’t nothin’ to be embarrassed about, y’know? Not down here.”

He nodded, but he seemed distracted. “What’s your name?” he asked suddenly.

Oh boy. Was this one looking for ‘the girlfriend experience’? Angel just smiled though. “Whaddya want it to be?”

The demon was about to respond when Angel suddenly tripped over his own feet; he managed to catch himself on the alley wall but his head was spinning. His body was going hot and cold, and the John was looking alarmed. 

“You sure you’re all right? ‘Cause I can call-”

“No! I mean, no need, schnookums.” He fished quickly in his suit and handed the demon the cigar. “Why don’t you light that up? It’ll steady us both.”

“Oh. All right. I, uh, I never smoked before…”

Normally Angel had a game in these scenarios: guess what got them sent to Hell, then quiz them on it. Sometimes he offered prizes if he was wrong. But right now, the ground felt like it might rise up and meet him and he couldn’t think of a way to get through the next few minutes without Val’s poison to steady him. 

But the stupid demon couldn’t find a lighter. “Hang on, I got one right-”

Angel pushed himself off the alley wall, snapping, “Why don’tcha let me-” when suddenly black spots covered his vision and his legs buckled, sending him crumpling to the floor. 

“Shit!” The demon was at his side, hovering nervously as Angel lay shivering on his side, vision spinning too much to move. “What do I do? Do I call someone?”

“Light the...light the damn…”

The sound of a match being struck, then the sweet sharp smell of the red smoke reached Angel. He managed to open his eyes, a vague sense of the fox demon leaning over him getting through. “Sorry- just need – you gotta-”

A hand pressed to his forehead and then pulled away. The fox’s face creased in a look of utter panic. “Hell, you’re really sick.” Angel realised suddenly, he probably had never dealt with a pimp like Valentino or the other hard asses at the studio before. The John had no idea what to do.

“I’m – I need to call someone for you, all right? Do – do they have doctors down here?”

Angel’s laugh dissolved into a cough. They had doctors, all right. Not good ones. His shaking hand reached into his jacket and retrieved his phone, managing to get the emergency call feature going. The John took it from him, fumbling. 

“This number?” he asked, showing a contact to Angel, who couldn’t make out much besides a bunch of blurry letters and numbers. “Val?” he asked.

“No,” Angel said, the fever ravaging through his body so fiercely he almost sobbed the word. “No. Please, not him. He’ll...he’ll…”

The burning cigar got down his throat, his fevered mind going back to all his memories of the red smoke, none of them good. The John nodded, flipping the buttons quickly. 

“I’m going to try this one, OK?” he said, showing Angel something he couldn’t read at all. “The home number?” Angel's eyes were starting to shut, his mind fixated on the cold feeling of the concrete beneath him. It was raining in earnest now, the cold droplets like heaven on his skin. 

He just made out the demon saying something before his consciousness started to fade: “Hello? Is this the Hazbin Hotel?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Follow up on the cliffhanger from two chapters ago! I’ve been alternating the past and present timelines, so I didn’t realise this little plot point wouldn’t be resolved straight away. Anyways, please enjoy and a super big thank you to all my reviewers! More notes at the end.

YEARS AGO…

Angel froze, every muscle tensing up. Playing dumb was not an option, not with how beaten he looked. And Val was still watching him intently, waiting. 

There was nothing else he could do except answer honestly. Defeated, miserable, he said, “I got jumped.”

“Jumped?”

“I-it was just a regular private party. I swear I didn’t do anything, boss, I didn’t even say anything out of turn, but I guess they just wanted to beat someone up, you know – for fun.” He shifted nervously, wincing at the pain in his ribs and realising he was babbling. Val was still staring at him, his expression neutral. “But I didn’t lose the money! It’s- it’s right here.”

He managed to find it, crumpling it a bit in his hand in his haste. Val looked from the money to him, then back again. He leant back in his chair, considering. Then he raised his hand, beckoning Angel closer.

Angel tensed, biting his swollen lip so hard it stung. He edged forward, stretching his arm out to put the money in Valentino’s hand. But then Valentino moved his hand back, forcing Angel closer, until he was standing within arm’s length of the moth demon. 

He didn’t dare look up as he set the money in Val’s hand. He watched that same hand close around the money, weighing it in his hand...and then setting it aside on the table. 

And then Val leant forward and took hold of Angel’s wrist, trying to pry his arms away from his middle. Angel looked up, tensing further. 

“Boss?”

“Let me see,” he said, prying Angel’s arms away from his body. Angel looked away, discomfited, but Val just pressed a hand against his stomach over his bruises before moving up to check his ribs for breaks. Angel was trying to hold himself as still as possible but he couldn’t help but wince when Val pressed against the still-sore spots. Val pulled back. He looked critically at the tears to Angel’s fluff before standing and taking Angel’s face in his hands. 

He was looking at the bruises, bruises that would need covering up with copious amounts of makeup if he was to do any shoots at all in the next few days. And even then, they would have to find a way to cover up the cuts he’d gotten in his lip and wait for the swelling in his face to go down…

His breathing was starting to speed up, dread making his heart pound. He knew what was coming: Val was going to beat him worse as a punishment, then probably ghost him for taking even longer to be ready for a shoot again. Or he was going to make Angel walk the streets day and night to earn back every dime he’d lost. 

He hadn’t realise he’d started to shake until Val looked him dead in the eye. “Are you in a lot of pain, Angie?”

Angel didn’t trust himself to answer. It didn’t sound like a trick, but he couldn’t be sure. He could never be sure.

Val was distracted though, frowning about something. He’d eased Angel’s head back, pulling his bottom jaw open. “You’ve got a chipped tooth, darlin’.”

Angel’s hands flew to his mouth, trying to cover the damage despite how futile it was. A chipped tooth? How in Hell had he not noticed a chipped tooth? This was worse than a few days off, this was a career ruiner…

But Val was grabbing his hands again, pulling them away from his mouth and wiping the blood away from his chin. “Don’t take on so, Angelcakes. Why don’t we get you a gold one, just like the one I have? You’ll like that.” 

Angel dared breathe again, for the first time since he’d set foot in Val’s office. Val...wasn’t mad? Why wasn’t he mad? He was just watching Angel expectantly, and he almost looked concerned, the most concern Angel had seen from him in weeks. The relief somehow hurt worse than the pain and Angel felt suddenly on the verge of tears. Shit. He could not cry in front of Val. He had to say something, convince him everything was fine, but he couldn’t get out a word and the strain of holding everything in only made him tremble worse.

“Not like you to get so rattled, sugar,” he said, his arms wrapping around Angel and guiding him to sit on Valentino’s bed. “We’d better make sure you’re always able to handle yourself. A knife or a gun’d fit real easy in those oversize boots of yours, even if you’re not wearing a suit. You’re high profile now, you know. Everyone knows you’re the best in the business.”

Angel nodded, keeping his arms wrapped tight around himself. “I should – I should probably…”

But he trailed off as Val turned around and started looking through a desk drawer. He pulled out a bottle, prescription meds by the look of it. “You don’t have anything that’ll help in your room, do you, Angie? You never did bother with much besides dust or drink.”

“Val-”

He picked up a bottle of water and handed Angel a few pills. “Take these. They help. Swallow it whole though, it tastes foul.”

Angel hesitated for a moment before swallowing them down and chasing it up with the water. Not quite the instant hit he’d get with another drug, but he supposed it would take a while to work. He smiled weakly up at Val, still waiting for the switch to flip. “Thanks,” he said, moving to stand. “I’d better get back to-”

But Val pushed him down to sitting again. “Forget about that,” he said, drawing back the covers of his big double bed. “Stay here for now.”

Angel stared at him, wondering if he’d heard wrong. No one slept in Val’s bed except Val; even when he was enjoying himself with whatever girl he’d rented for the night it was always somewhere else, like a club or another room in the studio. He didn’t even much like having casual conversations with his Overlord friends in his room, come to think of it. 

Val took his silence as acquiescence and moved Angel further across the bed, encouraging him to lie down. Angel curled up on his side, cradling his sore ribs with his arms. Val lifted his legs onto the bed and took off his boots. His hand brushed Angel’s knee and Angel instinctively flinched before he realised Val was just pulling up the covers for him. 

“I got a few things to take care of, Angie,” he said, kneeling down to get eye-level with Angel. “But I’ll be back later. You good til then?”

Angel started to relax into the pillow, finding himself growing drowsy, the pain replaced by an all-consuming numbness. Val was right, this stuff wasn’t bad.

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good…”

“I thought so. I’ll look into that for you,” he said, tapping his gold tooth and standing up. “We’re a team, Angel. I’ll make sure the world knows that.”

Angel curled up under the heavy covers. Normally his outfits made him feel powerful, but right now he felt exposed and cold in just his shorts. At least the medication was really starting to take the edge off...

He watched Val retreat to the door and switch off the light, convinced he was already dreaming. Val didn’t let people sleep in his bed. He didn’t let Angel get away with screwing up with the smallest things, much less getting his face pounded in and costing Val money.

“Val?” he said sleepily. 

Val looked back. “Yeah, Angie?”

“Nothing…”

Val half-smiled, shutting the door behind him and leaving Angel in the dark to slowly fall asleep. He was still convinced he’d wake up tomorrow and everything would go to shit – Val was just delaying his punishment for messing up. Letting him sleep in his bed was just a precursor to that, a head game he was playing. 

But Val had still done it. And before he drifted off properly, Angel couldn’t help but feel pleased Val was showing him such favouritism. He couldn’t help but think there was a silver lining to getting his face pounded in, if it meant Val would treat him like a human being for five seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hopefully this doesn’t come off too much as me trying to give Val a redeeming feature. I’m trying to write him as someone who gives with one hand and takes back with the other, all in the service of keeping Angel in the hook how he prefers. That and (depending on how things go in the show), he does seem to have a desire for Angel’s attention and probably rationalises his treatment of him in his own head (since most abusers won’t ever admit that’s what they are). Anyways, it’s back to the present storyline next chapter as we get towards the end. Thanks again for all the support!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Not much to say this time around, except thanks again for all the reviews! We’re closing in on the ending soon, so I hope everyone likes the denouement too. I’m glad Valentino is coming across OK so far. He’s not (physically) in this chapter, so there’s a bit of a break from his lousy behaviour in this one.

Charlie was surprised to hear the voice on the other end of the line. It wasn’t one she recognised, but two things immediately stuck out to her: yet another person was getting the hotel’s name wrong (why'd they keep doing that?), and this person sounded... scared. 

“Yes, this is the hotel. Can I help you?”

“Uh...do you know a demon with white hair and pink spots? And, uh, a New York accent?”

Charlie frowned. “You mean Angel Dust?”

“I- I guess so. Does he live with you? Could you come help?”

“Help?” Charlie said sharply, her tone attracting the attention of Alastor nearby. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“He’s like, sick or something. I think he has a temperature? I-I just found him collapsed on the street and I don’t know what to do, I found this number in his phone and he said not to call the other number-”

“Wait, wait, slow down,” she said, “Where are you right now?”

“An alley off of, um, Six-One-Sixth. What should I do?”

“Stay there,” she said, waving Vaggie over when she spotted her in the hall. Alastor drifted closer, clearly listening in. “I’m going to bring the car around and pick Angel up. Can you watch over him until then?”

“Yeah, sure...can you get here soon? I don’t like being out on the street like this…”

He definitely sounded nervous. Charlie gripped the receiver tighter. “Don’t you worry. If it’s Angel, I’ll be right there.” And she hung up, turning to face her alarmed friends. 

“Is there a problem, my dear?” Alastor asked, his smile growing broader.

“Something’s up with Angel – I just got a call from someone saying he’s ill,” she said. “Will you go with me down town to pick him up?”

“Sure thing, hon,” Vaggie said, “I’ll go get the drivers.”

“Great. Alastor, will you come to? I don’t know if we’ll need some extra muscle.”

“I imagine you could handle any chicanery yourself, but of course. I do hope our effeminate fellow hasn’t gotten himself in any...trouble.” He smiled as usual, tipping his head to the side, and Charlie was immediately sure he wasn’t saying anything he really meant. But she just nodded and grabbed her jacket on her rush to leave the hotel, calling to Husk that they were leaving and to man the front desk for them. 

Charlie locked up behind her, rushing down the front steps with Alastor by her side just as the car came around and Vaggie popped open the door for her. They all clambered in, Charlie opening the screen to tell her little goat helpers where to go and to step on it.

They all sat back in silence, Vaggie looking a little surprised Alastor was coming along but not commenting on it. She instead noticed Charlie nervously tapping her foot as the car pulled off. “So what did they say on the phone? Who was it?”

Charlie shook her head. “I didn’t recognise the voice, but it sounded like a guy.”

“Like a client?”

“He didn’t say that...he said he just found Angel collapsed.”

“I imagine that was a lie,” Alastor said, smiling. “Though it is unusual for a denizen of Hell to be embarrassed about engaging Angel’s services.”

“Do you think he hurt him?” Vaggie said, looking both distressed and pissed off all at once.

“I don’t know…” Charlie bit her lip. “He said he thought Angel had a fever. Did you guys notice anything off with him lately?”

“I tried to talk to him this morning,” Vaggie admitted softly. “But he was too busy to stick around long.”

“Perhaps I’m wrong, since I haven’t been at the delightful establishment as long as you, but did he have such a busy schedule before?” Alastor asked, crossing his legs and leaning forward.

Charlie shook her head. In truth, she wasn’t sure; Angel had tended to come and go as he wanted in the early days. Sometimes she’d see him in the lobby by himself late at night, usually smoking one of those weird red cigarettes, but he’d always seem tetchy and she never had the chance to ask him what he was still doing up before he’d get irate with her and walk off. 

“I hope he hasn’t fallen off the wagon again,” she muttered, clenching her hands together. The others said nothing, but she knew they had to have at least been thinking it too. 

The car came to a screeching halt and Charlie spotted the sign of Six-One-Sixth. She climbed out, spotting a fox demon anxiously waving her over. 

“You’re the one from the phone, right?” he said. “Come on – this way-” And then he rushed off again. Alastor shrugged his shoulder, a curious look on his face, but Vaggie drew her spear, making sure she went down the alley first.

So they were all a little surprised when they found exactly what the fox demon had described: Angel, lying on his side and breathing hard. Charlie threw caution to the wind and knelt down by his side, checking his forehead and shaking him gently. 

“Angel? Can you hear me? It’s Charlie.”

But he didn’t respond. 

Charlie quickly weighed up her options. Angel might be one of the skinniest and leggiest demons she’d met in Hell, but he was tall and with an extra set of arms to navigate to boot. She looked up at the tallest of them, the Radio Demon. “Alastor, can you get him back to the car?”

“If you wish,” he said, still grinning. He leant down and pulled one of Angel’s arms over his shoulder, managing to pull him up to his feet and allowing the spider demon to rest all his weight on him. Angel stirred a little but didn’t rouse, putting up no resistance as Alastor towed him back to the car, telling him, “Not to worry, my good fellow, the hotel staff have this all in hand! You’ll be right as rain soon enough!”

The fox demon cleared his throat. “So I’d better-”

“Were you a client?” Vaggie said suddenly.

“Sorry?”

“Were you a client? Of Angel’s?” When he looked away, she took him by the shoulders, surprising both Charlie and the demon. “It’s important.”

He was still looking away. But he nodded.

Vaggie looked over at Charlie. “Can you give him something? Some money?”

Charlie looked confused, but did as asked, putting a stack of notes in his hand. 

“That’s for a replacement,” she said. “Call up an agency – the same agency – and give them that money. All right?”

“Uh…” He looked confused, too, but the money in his hand (and the spear in Vaggie’s) was obviously swaying him. “Sure. Thanks. I’m – I’m gonna go?”

He turned to rush off, but Charlie grabbed his arm. “Thank you. Really, thank you. You should come by the hotel sometime – it’s on the other side of -”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, rushing off out of the alley with the money clenched in his hand. Charlie and Vaggie were left alone. The Princess gave her girlfriend a questioning look. 

“Angel must have a boss, right? He might get mad if he loses money,” Vaggie said, sheepishly brushing a hand through her hair. “We should go…”

Charlie beamed at her, following Vaggie as she hurried back to the car. Alastor had helped Angel inside and was lying him down on one of the seats, examining his condition with a curious cat’s smile. “He felt really hot,” Charlie said, trying to think what to do. “Maybe you can loosen his jacket?”

Alastor shrugged and reached down to do just that, but the second his fingers touched the first button, Angel grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t,” he said, coughing. “Just...don’t, Val…”

The air in the limo turned colder. Even Alastor’s smile froze for a moment.

“Did- did he just-” Vaggie swallowed. “You guys heard that, right?”

Charlie’s demeanour had gone cold. “He means Valentino,” she said. “Doesn’t he? Valentino is his boss.”

Alastor pulled his wrist back just enough that Angel’s hand slipped off and dropped heavy onto his middle. He switched his smile back on and turned to Charlie. “Perhaps we should head home, my dear? This situation is sure to look more manageable back at the hotel.”

“Yeah…” She tapped on the glass for the driver to go, her expression grim. “Yeah, let’s go.”

No one spoke as the car pulled off, the only sound in the limo as they drove along Angel’s shallow, rapid breathing. 

As soon as they got back, Alastor and Charlie lifted Angel out of the limo, both of them taking a side and helping him walk down the halls. Husker looked up from the front desk, putting down the bottle he was drinking from. 

“What’s up with him?” he asked.

“Not right now, Husker,” Charlie said, trying to focus on supporting Angel’s weight. Just then, there was a loud ringing sound. Everyone looked at one another, confused, before Alastor reached over and fished out Angel’s phone from his pocket. 

He flipped open the top, opening it so that they could all see what was on the caller ID:

VAL


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We’re in the present again this time, just so you know ^^ I’ve broken the past/present pattern this time around, mostly because there’s a parallel moment I wanted to set up in the next couple of chapters that required it. (Sorry for anyone who wanted the payoff to the past bit first). Thanks for all the support!

They all froze, the phone continuing to ring and ring as they waited. Charlie recovered first, looking up at Alastor and Vaggie. “I have to take this. Can one of you take Angel to his room?”

“I will,” Vaggie said, surprising Alastor by getting under Angel’s arm and managing to lift him. She nodded to Charlie and urged Angel along faster to his room, and Charlie realised she was trying to get him out of earshot so he didn’t have to hear Val’s voice.

Luckily she managed to get him around the corner and out of sight, leaving Charlie and Alastor alone with the still-ringing phone. 

“Speakerphone, my dear?” Alastor asked, gesturing to the phone. 

She nodded. “But let me do the talking, all right?”

Then Charlie picked up. 

“Hey Angelcakes, what took you so long? I have another client-”

“I’m not Angel,” she said, cutting him off. 

There was a long, long pause.

“Who is this?” Val said, the casual tone turned totally off.

“This is Charlie.” She took a deep breath. “And I need to speak with you.”

“Charlie? Charlie who?” he said, though she could hear the slight recognition in his voice.

“A friend,” she said. “I’m answering Angel’s phone because he’s ill.” She met Alastor’s gaze and thought she saw slight disapproval in his expression. “Really, really ill. He collapsed on the street with a high fever.”

Another long pause. Finally Val said, “His client just called back with a surprising amount of money to spend. Is that your doing?”

“Is it a problem if it is?”

Alastor’s smile broadened. He looked almost gleeful as there was another patch of dead air on the line. 

“Where is he? I’ll send someone to collect him.”

“No.” Charlie was surprised by the firmness in her own voice. “He’s fine here. He’s too sick to travel.”

Val sighed down the line, like she was really annoying him. “I don’t think you understand. Angel has obviously been using and is getting withdrawal symptoms. He’ll cause you nothing but trouble if you try to treat it like a cold.”

“I don’t think he’s using. He’s sick. As a matter of fact, I think he’s overworked.”

The silence on the line now was somehow deafening.

“Are you the...landlord of his new residence?”

“Yeah. You could call me that.”

“Whatever he’s paying you, I can give you more money than you could ever dream of. Throw him out, and I’ll collect him. He has a home in the studio. He doesn’t need another to be troubling other demons.”

Alastor was starting to look irate at the bad attitude, but Charlie caught his eye, shook her head. She didn’t know why exactly, but she knew she had to handle this herself. “No. I’m not telling you where he is, and you’re not coming here.”

Val laughed incredulously. “Listen here, you little bitch-”

“No, you listen. I don’t allow Overlords on my premises, and I don’t take shit from other demons. And I don’t hand over my residents to anyone like they’re fucking pieces of property. Do you understand me? Am I making myself clear?”

And before he could even answer, she hung up. 

A long, tense silence ensued while they waited to see if Val would phone back. When a minute passed and he didn’t, Charlie turned the phone off. Alastor raised his eyebrows, giving her a little round of applause.

Charlie let out a long, shaky sigh. “Was- was that the right thing to do? What’s going to happen to Angel when he has to talk to Val again?”

Just then Vaggie appeared at the corner. “Why don’t we sit down and talk about that, hun?”

Charlie nodded, but her hands around the mobile were shaking. Vaggie noticed, coming over and resting her hands over the Princess’. “Are you all right? Was he awful to you?”

“It’s not that. I’m just -” She looked out the window, biting her lip. “I’m so angry,” she said softly. “I can’t think about any of this without getting so angry. I wanted to say a lot more to him than I did.”

Alastor’s radio static crackled suddenly to life. “Cocoa! Who wants cocoa? I see two ladies who look in dire need of it.”

Vaggie gave him a funny look but just shrugged in the end. “Cocoa, fine, whatever. Come on, Charlie. Let’s ask Husker to keep an eye on Angel while we talk? He’d probably be pleased about that?”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, smiling faintly even as she sighed like she was trying to move the weight of the world in the rise and fall of her shoulders.

“Excellent! Nothing’s ever terrible with a cup of cocoa in your hands,” Alastor said, putting an arm around both of their shoulders and steering them both deeper into the hotel. Vaggie and Charlie shared a look but Vaggie, for once, allowed it. 

*

It took a cocoa and a pretty excessive amount of whipped cream before Charlie seemed inclined to talk again. Her voice was soft as she spoke, her gaze in her empty mug. 

“That demon who called us...did you notice he seemed like he, I don’t...cared? Actually cared about something?”

“There’s more than one type of sinner, my dear,” Alastor said. “Some are cowards. Some are here for relatively little things, like felony tax evasion.”

“Specific,” Vaggie quipped. “But yeah, I sure noticed that.”

“I think he was new,” Charlie said. “And I think I’ve seen it before. We get all sorts down here. Not everyone is a murderer or something, you know?”

“Yeah,” Vaggie said. “I know.”

“But being down here...most of them just get worse. Everyone around them is apathetic. Everyone around them just expects them to indulge in whatever vice they want, or to start fist-fights, or to live out their arson fantasies or whatever. And they get further and further from who they were.”

“What are you driving at, hun?”

Charlie looked up. “I was naive. I know that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Angel was probably pretty far from a good person when he was alive. He’s crass, amoral and abrasive, pretty self-centred...and sometimes I really don’t like him. There’s plenty I’d like to think we could help him with, and I – I still believe he’s clean. I think this is a normal behaviour.”

“Right…?”

She looked down again. “But if we limit our focus to just Angel, I don’t think we’ll be helping him. We’ll be putting him in danger, and I can’t bear that.”

“You mean from Valentino, my dear?” Alastor said, his radio static particularly harsh on the pimp’s name. 

“Yes. When I was young, my parents sometimes had to deal with the other Overlords. Even back then, my father warned me that there wasn’t always good in everyone, even if I tried to see it. The example he was using at the time was Valentino.”

Vaggie’s eyes widened. “So you think…”

“That Valentino is exactly as bad as we’re all imagining him to be? Yes. And going by Angel’s behaviour, he might even be worse.”

Vaggie bit her lip. “Something occurred to me earlier – remember when we first recruited Angel to the hotel? He said he was three months behind on his rent. At the time, it seemed easy to write off, right? If he’s literally named Angel Dust you could make an easy assumption where he’s spending his money. But what if it wasn’t that? What if a lot of the money he makes goes straight to Val? And , and, remember how quiet he got when you gave him the money, Charlie? Looking back on it, his whole attitude kind of changed after that…”

Alastor folded one leg over the other and leant forwards, narrowing his eyes even as his smile got wider. “What are we proposing then, my dears? Are we to take on Valentino to give our first resident sinner his best shot at the pearly gates?”

Charlie gave him the side-eye, not sure if he was making fun or not. But she set down her mug anyway and sat up straight. “It might well come to that. But we need to talk to Angel. Whatever happens, he’ll bear the consequence of that and he likely knows what Val will do next – and I hate to think that he might be on the receiving end of something worse because of how I talked to Val.”

“We paid him off once,” Vaggie said, spiritedly. “I already told one souped up Overlord they don’t get to hurt anyone here. I’ll tell another the same thing if you need me to.”

Charlie reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Vaggie. And you’ve got it dead on – no matter what, Angel needs to know he can always feel safe in the hotel. I’m making that promise to him, and anyone who passes through our doors.” 

Alastor looked at their joined hands and leant back in his seat, chuckling to himself. “This promises to be very entertaining…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Only a few more to go! Back to the past timeline next time :) I was a bit worried about having Charlie swear like that before I remembered, duh, she does it in the actual pilot.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Almost to the end now! Thank you all for the reviews ^^ This’ll probably be the penultimate chapter, also, so just one left to go.

A/N: Almost to the end now! Thank you all for the reviews ^^ This’ll probably be the penultimate chapter, also, so just one left to go.

YEARS AGO…

Angel came around slowly, the pain in his body coming back before his consciousness did. His ribs hurt, his mouth even more so. His tongue ran over the jagged edge of one of his teeth, and the memories started to come back: getting jumped at the club. Getting something that was almost like care from Val. 

He moved his hand, feeling the sheets under him, the warmth of the heavy covers weighing him down. That was the other thing, the most unbelievable thing. Val had let him sleep in his bed. And he could somehow tell he hadn’t been disturbed; it felt like he’d woken up in the exact pose he’d fallen asleep in. 

There was a faint light coming from somewhere – the dresser table light was on, casting a harsh neon glow across the bed. And there was a weight on the bed near him, something in his hair. 

And then Val said, “I don’t care how you get it, just get it. I need the guest list.”

Val. Val was sitting on the other side of the bed near him. It felt like he was fiddling with the back of Angel’s hair with his free hand, talking on the phone to someone with the other. Angel tried to relax back into the pillow, not wanting to let on that he was awake. Everything still ached, the painkiller obviously wearing off, and there was something about this moment that was...rare, for him. Normally he was just running, running, running full speed – clients and parties and private dances and getting as high as a kite to get through all of it, not so much sleeping as collapsing for a night until he was roused the next morning for whatever the hell he was late for…

But lying here, warm and drowsy with nothing else in his system but a painkiller that wouldn’t give him withdrawal? Down here, in Val’s studio especially, that was practically Heaven.

He was distracted from that thought when Val spoke again. “I don’t care, do you understand me? This town needs to understand that they don’t lay their hands on anything that’s mine without consequence.” There was talking on the other line that Angel couldn’t make out, even as he held himself still to better listen in. “Good. Save me at least one. I’ll knock his teeth out…” He paused and Angel could hear the laughter in his voice. He twirled part of Angel’s hair around his finger, almost pulling on it. “Yeah. As a message.”

There was another pause on Val’s end, the speed of the speaker tipping Angel off that whoever he was talking to was obviously saying whatever Val wanted to hear. “Good. Don’t call me again until you have something for me.”

Then he hung up, leaning back and sighing a long sigh. It was only when the sweet, bitter scent of red smoke reached Angel and made him cough that he realised Val was smoking. 

The hand that was in his hair went still. “You awake, Angie?”

He debated pretending to be asleep, but he slowly turned his head to look up at Val. “Hey, boss.”

Val blew out a smoke ring and Angel managed to breathe it in without coughing this time. Usually the scent made him dizzy, but now it gave him a pleasant fuzziness. “...Who was that on the phone?”

“A contact of mine. They’re going to help me take care of the demons who beat you.”

Angel nodded, unable to repress a shiver. He’d only seen Val ‘take care of’ demons once or twice before. He swallowed and found himself saying, “I want to watch.”

Val’s smile was so happy and genuine that Angel immediately felt sick to his stomach. He had to look away, tried to distract himself by looking towards the window. It was dark out. “Was – was I asleep for awhile?”

“Rest of the day, Angie. Told you there was more to life than drink and dust.”

Angel settled back against the pillow, expecting Val to say something else. But he didn’t. He scooted off the bed and headed back to the door, leaving his still-burning red cigarette sitting on an ashtray at the dresser table. Angel frowned, confused why he wasn’t talking. He pushed himself up to sitting, trying to keep the covers over his bruised body. 

“Val, I-I’ll make up for the work I missed tomorrow. I’ll do as many shoots-”

“You aren’t filming tomorrow,” Val said, looking at him like he was speaking Italian. “Not looking like that.”

Angel tensed. “But -”

“No makeup in the world will fix the bruises and the swelling in your face, Angelcakes. And I don’t intend to make films for anyone who wants to see you looking like a mess, frankly.”

“Oh. Are-are you sure?” 

“Of course.” Val frowned. “You really think I’d make you do that?”

“No, no, I’m just- tired. I’m not thinking straight.”

“Hm.” Val stared hard at him for a second, making Angel’s stomach churn. “More pills in the drawer if you need them. I’ll be back later.”

Angel watched him leave the room, his arms winding around his bruised middle again, trying to hold himself together. Was this real? Wouldn’t he just wake up tomorrow to find Val or someone else yelling at him to get to work already? It had happened any number of times before…

And more to the point, did Val expect him to stay here all night? Would he get mad if Angel tried to slink off to his own room? 

Angel pulled at his hair, wincing at the pain in his ribs. He sighed. Forget about this. He reached over for Val’s cigarette and took a deep, deep drag, filling his lungs with the red smoke and his head with a pleasant, numbing tingling. And then he rustled around in Val’s drawer for the pain medication, downing two pills with as much water as he could manage before he needed to breathe.

Val had a point about the painkillers, at least. If he was getting a rare chance to actually stop and breathe and rest, he was going to be damn sure he grabbed it with both hands.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just wanted to say congrats to Vivziepop for getting Hazbin Hotel picked up as a series!! I’m hoping as much as anyone it’s brought to a platform I can watch, but if it’s not, I’ll wait for the DVD (hoping there is one, that is). The Addict video in particular had a huge amount of views, so I’m glad producers didn’t sleep on the opportunity to make it a full-blown series. Anyways, this is the last chapter, so I hope you’ve had a good time reading this fic :) Thanks for all the comments so far ^^
> 
> (Also, it’s more than twice as long as ch11, so I hope that helps scratch an itch! Also also, I’ve given Angel an ensuite on his room for the purposes of the story. It’ll make sense shortly)

Angel came around slowly, the heat in his body coming back before his consciousness did. His body felt kind of off and sore, his head even more so. He coughed, his chest aching as he did so, and the memories started to come back: going out to meet a John. Feeling the tiredness overwhelming him and ending up face down on the cold concrete. He vaguely remembered being transported in a limo and almost groaned aloud. 

Hell, if it had been Val that found him, he was going to be in for a world of torment, especially with the thin ice he’d been on lately…

But when he opened his eyes, he realised it wasn’t the Studio. He was in his room in the hotel. The lights had been turned off and the curtains drawn, and most surprising of all, Husker was sleeping in a chair near his bed, a bottle in one claw and one of Angel’s throws resting messily across him like a blanket. 

Angel frowned, his gold tooth sharp as he bit into his lower lip. The hell was this? Husker couldn’t stand Angel most of the time; so he thought, even when he tried to reign in his flirting (usually whenever Husker did something helpful, like bringing much needed take out food to the Studio for him). 

He sat up, wiping the damp fringe out of his face and sliding out of bed. He avoided disturbing Husker as he picked his way across his messy room and looked into his mirror. The sight made his heart sink – there were shadows under his eyes, his hair was a mess and he actually looked kind of gaunt. It kind of reminded him of the time he’d been living rough for awhile, before he’d met Val. Back then, having a room in the Studio and being able to eat whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted was a luxury all by itself. 

The next thing he noticed was that someone had changed his suit jacket for a pajama top. They’d left his shorts alone, and he felt strangely relieved. He wasn’t exactly the modest sort, at least not after coming to Hell and getting used to people seeing him in a state of undress. But still…

He shook off the thought and located his jacket slung over the end of the bed. But when he rustled through the pockets, he couldn’t find his phone.

Shit. Where the hell had his phone gone?

Just then the door creaked open and a soft voice called, “Husker…?”

It was Charlie. Husker didn’t rouse and she opened the door wider, spotting Angel standing there staring at her. And she suddenly beamed from ear to ear. “Angel! It’s so good to see you awake!”

“Uh...thanks, toots. What’s goin’ on, exactly?”

She gestured for him to sit, then gently shook Husker awake. He noticed Angel was awake, but didn’t say anything except to grumble a bit that his bottle was empty. Charlie took it from him, and then took hold of his paw, smiling gently. “Hey, Husker. I want to get something for Angel. Can you keep him company a minute?”

“Uh…” He looked embarrassed at the gentle contact and shrugged. “Sure. Whatever. You ain’t gonna bother me too much, are you, Angel?”

Angel didn’t have a snappy comeback, so he just shrugged. 

Charlie smiled at them both before practically bouncing out of the room. Angel slumped back onto his bed, pulling his knees up to his chest and looking over at Husker. “So what’s goin’ on? How did I end up back here?”

Husker shrugged, flexing his claw like he didn’t know what to do with his hand now that there wasn’t a bottle in it. Angel had been clean a pretty good while now, but he could do with a drink. Some moments just needed the edge taking off…

“Hell if I know. Charlie was all fired up when she dragged the red bastard and Vaggie out in the car with her. Guess she went to get you.”

Angel fidgeted, rubbing the back of his head. Husker seemed surprised Angel wasn’t making more conversation, and relaxed back into his chair, watching him. “Your room’s a tip, spider.”

“Bet yours isn’t any better. Wanna show me?” He tried to smirk, but his fever was making him feel less than desirable. Husker frowned, but didn’t snap like usual.

“But you’re not up to that, are you.” 

Angel scowled and looked away. 

Just then, Charlie came back, Alastor and Vaggie by her side. She was carrying a tray with water, a bowl of oatmeal and yoghurt on it. She was smiling sheepishly. “Sorry for the crowd. Vaggie wanted to see how you were, and Alastor...ummm…”

“I wanted to see if you were in better spirits, my good fellow!” Alastor said, the whine of radio static hard on Angel’s throbbing head.

“Guess not,” Vaggie said, smiling sympathetically. She perched on the very edge of his bed as Charlie set down the tray for him. “Think you can manage something?”

Angel was starting to feel a sore throat coming on, so he picked up the yoghurt. It was so bland and tasteless, but at least it was smooth and easy to swallow. “Thanks, sweets. I’m, uh, sorry for the trouble. I don’t normally get sick.” 

Charlie nudged the water towards him pointedly, watching him while he took a drink. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but was restraining herself. After a long, silent second of some of the others staring at him, she turned around to look at the others. 

“Would you guys mind giving us some space?” she asked. 

Before anyone could say a word, Alastor shook his head. “Your pardon, my dear, but I think it best if I remain as well.”

Vaggie looked a bit alarmed, but Charlie nodded. “All right. It’s all right,” she said, more to Vaggie with the last part. Vaggie still looked uneasy, but she and Husker left without a word, leaving the three of them alone. 

Angel fidgeted, lifting and dropping with the oatmeal with the spoon just for something to do. There was a distinct air in the room that Charlie wanted to have a serious talk, and he was not here for it. Hell, what if they had decided to kick him out of the hotel? Did they think he had been using again? Well, that would please Val at least. After he’d made Angel work a triple shift or whatever...

He was so wrapped up in mild panic that he didn’t notice when Charlie scooted further along the bed and took his hand. She let go before he could jerk his hand away, but the look on her face stopped him clambering back out of the bed and turning his back on her.

Not anger, or pity. 

Compassion. 

“Angel, I...I’ve gotta say a couple things, and let me finish before you jump in, all right?” she said, quickly continuing, “First, I’m really glad you had the hotel number and called us instead of – someone else. It’s good to do that, if you’re sick. Second, I did wonder if you’d fallen off the wagon – um, again – but my gut tells me that you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t fall of the wagon and I’ll believe it.”

She looked him dead in the eye and he swallowed. He was so used to brushing things off that managing real sincerity felt foreign to him. But he knew he had to try. “I didn’t, toots- Charlie. I swear.” And he held eye contact, silently willing her to believe him even while he felt so intensely dumb for doing so. 

She nodded, smiling briefly before she looked down again, suddenly tense. His stomach turned. It wasn’t enough. She was going to throw him out after all…

“All right, third...I have to ask you something. As the manager of this hotel, I’m responsible for everyone here, so...I’ll ask you once, and I’ll ask you to be honest. And if you want to tell me to get lost, I’ll wait until you feel like talking.” She looked at him, tension written all over her features. “Sound fair?”

Angel nodded, totally thrown as to what the Hell she was talking about. She looked over at Alastor, whose constant cat-smile was suddenly dialled way down. Then she turned to Angel, reached out for his hand again...then, abruptly, stopped herself.

The bad feeling in his stomach worsened.

Charlie looked him straight in the eye and said, “Angel – is your boss abusing you in some way? Financially, physically, or - or sexually?”

Angel opened his mouth immediately to deny everything, brush it off, but he could see it in her eyes – she already knew. Somehow, she already knew. How did she know? The only other person who even knew the half of it was Cherri, and she’d never met Charlie, would never say unless Angel allowed it…

The silence stretched on and he couldn’t get out a word. He clamped his jaw shut, his gaze drifting from Charlie to Alastor, looking for judgement, disapproval, something. 

But all he could see was worry, concern. Even Alastor’s smile had slipped. He didn’t have the doe-eyed concern that Charlie did, but he no longer had that predator’s grin. He looked tense, maybe even angry.

Angel looked down. He nodded, once. 

“All right,” Charlie said, softly. “Thank you for being honest with me. And I wanted to apologise to you, too.”

Angel looked up, his jaw dropping. “Say what?”

“I asked you into the program not realising I might be endangering you. It was naive, and I’m sorry. And I, uh, also answered a call from your boss.”

“You what?”

“Sorry. He kept calling, so I picked up and told him you were sick and that he wasn’t to come here and pick you up.”

Angel’s fists tightened around the covers so tightly he nearly knocked over the items on the tray. “Did you tell him-”

“I didn’t name the hotel. But given that it’s Valentino, he might figure it out eventually.” She looked at him, almost sick with worry. “Did I do a bad thing? Just, I was sure you weren’t in any state to travel, let alone work.” 

“Aw, no, it – it’s all right, toots. I shouldn’ta been stupid enough to get into this in the first place.” He scooted quickly out of the bed, intending to dress quickly and go, but Alastor blocked the door. “Al?”

“Did you forget about the company you keep, my friend?” The cat-grin was back in full, the unsettling effect stopping him dead. “You have the Princess of Hell and the Radio Demon in this establishment.” His eyes practically glowed as he spoke. “If it comes to the point at which you must choose between the hotel and the Studio, and you wish to remain here...remember it is entirely possible to make that a reality.” 

Angel’s throat went totally dry. “You – you can’t be serious, Al. You can’t go up against an Overlord for – wait.” His eyes widened. “This is a trick. You’re just trying to trick me by acting like you’d dare go up against Valentino, for my sake. Come the fuck on!”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, his head tipped to the side and radio static began to build up. Charlie got between them right as Alastor bared his teeth and his eyes starting to glow like an old transistor radio. “My fine fellow,” he said, voice crackling with white noise and anger, “If I promised I would destroy Valentino then I shall do it, and for whatever reason I choose. I hope that’s understood.”

Angel flinched back, his arms instinctively wrapping around his middle. “Jeez, fine, I get it, I just…”

“I agree, actually,” Charlie said, surprising them both. “I don’t intend to let any Overlord force you or any resident of this hotel to leave unless they want to. So I really need to ask you...do you want to, Angel?”

Angel dropped his hands to his sides, his fists clenching. “What the hell kind of question is that, Charlie? You want me to say I really, really want to get away from Val and please, please help me?” He was aware he was yelling but he couldn’t seem to stop. “And then what, huh? Stay here, get clean and get to Heaven? Yeah, maybe that’ll happen. But this is still Hell, day after day after day.”

Charlie had gone pale, but she didn’t interrupt. Angel wanted her to, he wanted someone to. He couldn’t seem to stop. 

“Y’know what it’s like, when I stay in the studio most of the time? When I wake up, I’m either being propositioned by someone, or being yelled at by someone, and sometimes it’s Val doing both. But here? Here it’s quiet, and you wake me up with goddamn scrambled eggs for breakfast and a ‘good morning’. The hell is that?” Angel pulled at his hair, now desperate for that drink he’d wanted earlier. Sober rants were vulnerable and awful. 

And he’d have to remember all of it. He’d have to answer for all of it later. 

Before anyone could say a word, he shoved past both Alastor and Charlie, slamming his drawers open and closed to desperately find the one thing he needed.

“Angel…?” Charlie said. 

There it was: one last red smoke cigarette that he’d forgotten about. Charlie and Alastor both spotted it as he seized it out of the drawer, different expressions crossing their faces. 

“Angel, please don’t-”

A lighter. There was a lighter right next to it. Angel flicked the flame on once, twice, thrice before his shaking hand managed to get it to work, and to light the cigarette.

The cigarette had barely even glowed as he lit it when dozens of memories triggered by that one smell came back up, up his throat as bile and he was sure he was about to be sick-

Shoving past Charlie, he threw open the door to the tiny ensuite, chucked the still burning cigarette into the toilet and flushed it down. Then he slumped down to the floor, shaking as hard as he had from withdrawal. Only now it was from holding in the urge not to cry. His hand covered his mouth to keep it in. 

He didn’t hear Charlie come into the bathroom, but he didn’t shrug her off when she touched his shoulder gently before – for the second time – pulling away. 

“I don’t wanna leave,” he said, desperately. “Please don’t throw me out. I don’t wanna leave…”

Charlie sat with him on the cold bathroom floor, sitting quietly while she waited for him to calm down. “I won’t. I’m not gonna do that, Angel. OK?”

“I can’t – leave the Studio. Not right away. I don’t want Val comin’ after the hotel…”

“OK…” 

There was a long silence, Angel looking down at his clenched fists on the cold lino. It reminded him of the worst times of his existence in Hell, emptying the contents of his stomach at Cherri’s place because of things that had happened at the Studio. But that wasn’t quite true. Just being at the Studio, day after day, had morphed into a constant weight in the pit of his stomach. The stress was always there because Val and all the rest of it was always there. 

He’d mumbled, drunk, about how he wished Val would carry out his worse threats and end his career for good. More than once Cherri had asked about it and more than once, Angel had blown her off. But if Val threw him out like trash, he didn’t need to worry about it any more. He could just be anonymous trash at the hotel, doing stupid meaningless things like stapling up posters and decorations or having Hell’s Anonymous meetings. All of that gave him a weird feeling in his chest, even started to unclench that knot deep down in his gut…

“But I-” He stopped, the urge to be sick coming back up. He sounded like a child. Like he had when he tried to tell his family he didn’t love girls, and probably never would. Charlie reached over, putting her hand on his clenched fist. He looked at it, the tension breaking in his chest as he almost gasped out, “I wanna leave. I don’t know what it’s gonna take, I wanna leave.” He looked her in the eye – hers were watery, on the verge of tears. “No matter how many tries, I- I wanna leave.”

“Angel,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I was really hoping you would say that.”


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Apologies for the add-on, but I wanted to wrap this up a bit more cleanly (longer explanation at the end). Warning for misogynistic language in this chapter, also.

Epilogue: One month later

Angel, Alastor, Charlie and Vaggie all sat around in the hotel lobby at one of the tables. Husker sat at the front desk, bottle in hand, except that he wasn’t drinking. 

Angel wasn’t drinking either. He’d been a month clean now. After he’d gotten over his fever, Valentino had been...quiet. And Angel had been nervous. Usually when Val kept his distance like that, one of two things happened: a nasty episode where he staked his claim again on Angel with violence, of any kind, or a period where he was especially sweet. 

But neither happened. Instead, Angel had begun to notice demons looking around the town, people he recognised...muscle from the Studio. And they were getting closer and closer to the hotel. 

More than once, he had had to be careful with clients when meeting them, and sometimes he had to give them the slip when they tried to insist on going back to ‘his place’, even following him in their cars. The most regular money he’d been able to make was from Travis, who was at least reliable even if he wasn’t great company. And even more worrying than all of that – Val didn’t say a word about the declining amount of money Angel was collecting for him...

While he was certain he hadn’t been seen or followed back to the hotel, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer to make his move. 

So now here they were, all sitting around the table, Angel’s phone sitting in front of them. 

“Ready, my fine fellow?” Alastor asked. Angel nodded, gripping the mobile in his hands. His other hands were clutching at his clothes, though. 

“Not gettin’ any less ready,” he said, but even he could hear his New York bravado failing him. He brought up Val’s contact, taking a long, deep breath. “Here we go. Puttin’ it on speaker…”

And he hit dial.

The phone started to ring. 

It was still early, so the ringer went on for a long time. Angel started to get nervous – was Valentino still asleep? Was he attending to something else? - when suddenly Val picked up. 

There was a long silence on the line. 

Angel frowned, looking at the others sitting around the table. Alastor gestured for him to talk. “Val?” he said. 

“This is early for you, Angie. I hope you’re not calling to tell me you can’t make it to the Studio today. I don’t appreciate having my time wasted.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t waste your fuckin’ time anymore, Val,” he said. Charlie nodded encouragingly, smiling. Angel took another deep breath, trying to ignore the nausea pushing up his throat. “I’m never coming back to the Studio.” The hit to his brain was better than any high he’d ever had. He almost smiled, added, “I’m not working for you any longer.”

There was barely a pause on the phone before Val practically sighed at him, saying, “Honestly, Angelcakes...where do you get these ideas? I’ll forget about what you just said if you just come into work today.”

“I’m not coming into work. Not now, not ever. I’ve delivered money to the Studio. Look in the mailbox, you’ll find it. I’m buying myself out from you – not that I should have to, since you never had me under any kind of contract.” Angel looked at the others; Charlie gave him a quick thumbs-up. 

Now there was a long, harsh pause on the line. 

“Now you listen to me, Angie…” Val’s voice was low, the voice he used when he was just about to lose it. Angel knew it well. “Do you know what they say about you around Hell, when they talk about you at all?” He chuckled. “They say you’re my whore. That you’d be nothing without me. And they’re not wrong, are they, Angelcakes? When I found you, you were just like the rest: a scrappy little animal snarling and hissing at anyone who dared come onto the tiny bit of territory you’d won for yourself?”

There was a long pause. Angel didn’t say anything, but shook his head when Charlie moved her hand to hang up. Valentino had a saying: give someone else the last word, they’d think they had all the power. Vaggie’s fists were clenched, her face like thunder. Angel shook his head, warning her not to speak. 

Suddenly, his tone changed. “Darlin’, you know I don’t mean to hurt you, don’t you…? But you have to face reality here. Before I found you, you were a gutter rat with no aspirations, destined only to get hurt in stupid turf wars, like that friend of yours, what’s-her-name...Cherri.” Angel felt a chill go down the length of his spine when Val said her name. He clenched his hands together, not giving Val the satisfaction by saying nothing. “When you joined up with me, you became a star – a star who could go to amazing parties, have a luxurious life, everything...you’re nothing without me, Angel. You’re lucky I paid you so much attention! And you’re going to throw it away – for what?”

“For myself,” Angel interrupted. “You’re right you gave me opportunities, Val, stuff I couldn’ta done alone. But I don’t want that life anymore.”

“Angie…”

“No, you listen to me,” he said, fiercely. “You get in my head. You’re a poison. Everything about this is poison.”

“Angie…” Val’s tone changed again, both harder and softer, desperate and threatening at the same time. “Darlin’, listen to me. You’re my star – you and I have done incredible things together. You know I need you. You know you inspire me…”

“Val-” Angel bit his lip, cut himself off from speaking any further. Despite everything, all the bruises and drugs and hurt and lies, there was an ache in his chest. There had been so many times he felt like Val was his ally, only for him to flip to the other side of coin the next morning. 

It was like Val had read his thoughts, too, because he went on, “Don’t you remember all the times I looked out for you, Angie? Dragged you off the streets when you were high, or drunk, or just desperately miserable? Or when I got you that gold tooth? Angie…?”

“Stop. Val.” Angel pulled at his roots. “It ain’t gonna work anymore. I’m done. No matter what you say-”

“Then keep something in your mind...Angel cakes.” His voice was suddenly ice cold, chilling everyone who was gathered there. “I taught you two golden principles: you live in my studio, you work in my studio. You’ve broken both.” A dead, hanging silence on the line. “And you will regret it.”

Then he hung up. 

There was a sudden silence in the room. Angel sighed, still tugging at his hair. “I knew it...he always gotta get the last word.”

“Angel-” Charlie started, her eyes big and worried.

“No, it’s all right, toots. Don’t you broads go pulling that face.” He looked pointedly around at the group, trying – even if only for the moment – to feel positive. “No matter what happens – no matter what Val thinks he can pull – I ain’t ever going back there. Not again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OK, so the previous ending was meant to convey that Angel had taken a step in admitting he wanted to leave. I think maybe it isn’t satisfying narratively because most Hazbin fans just want to see Angel get away from him and Val be defeated (in some way or other). I wanted to get across that it isn’t necessarily that simple – a big thing that keeps victims near abusers is the knowledge that the abuser can be become far more immediately dangerous if they leave, so having Angel suddenly make the jump to getting out felt like too much of a cut and dry ending for me to use. (Hence the timeskip here). There might be a sequel once I’ve time to plot it out properly, detailing the fallout with Val, especially as it concerns the hotel, but I hope this’ll do for a bit more of a conclusive wrap up. Thanks again to all reviewers!


End file.
